Gutterballs

Watching The Big Lebowski. I decided to watch it after reading I’m a Lebowski, You’re a Lebowski, which I had to do to cheer myself up after reading about the bombing of Hiroshima for class. I didn’t think I would find a book more depressing than Primo Levi’s Survival in Auschwitz. Then I read Letters from the End of the World: An Eye-Witness Account of the Bombing of Hiroshima. It turns out that things can get even more depressing than an account of someone being systematically dehumanized while being physically, mentally, and emotionally crippled by the intense suffering inflicted upon them by their fellow human beings.

As it happened, I was not accepted into the Iowa Writers’ Workshop, but I’m actually pretty happy with this turn of events. I’m excited for the future. Still haven’t heard from the School of the Art Institute of Chicago, from which I’m supposed to get a letter sometime soon. I’m going to be glad when it comes, whether I get in or not. It’s the waiting that kills me. Plus, the program is really unique and innovative, which makes not knowing ten times harder. I could see myself living in the South Loop, going to grad school. And when they called me for my phone interview, it sounded like they thought they were stealing me away from the Worskhop. I just let them keep thinking that.

Woo hoo! SPRING BREAK!! Yeah, I spent it traveling with my parents. I spent St. Patrick’s Day with my parents and grandmother. I was in Spencer on Tuesday afternoon and Wednesday morning, celebrating my grandmother’s 96th birthday. She’s starting to talk more about going into a nursing home. Of course, she wants it to be near Uncle Jim and Aunt Mary. When we got to St. Paul, we spent an evening having dinner with Jim, Mary, and Kate. I told Jim about how Grandma manages to steer the conversation to Jim no matter what we’re talking about. For example: I was telling her about that book I was reading for class, and how horrifying it was to imagine this poor man running around the bombed-out city of Hiroshima, desperately seeking his family, and somehow, we went from talking about that to talking about how Jim spent so much of his free time helping the neighbors out with yard work without being asked. She also mentioned during this trip that Jim was such a perfect son, he never once threw a temper tantrum.
Anyway, we took Grandma to Cindy’s Steakhouse for her birthday dinner, and they brought her a small, yellow cake that was still warm. The whole meal was good, but the cake was especially nice. I think Grandma enjoyed herself, and she got to see a couple of her former students.

Then to St. Paul, where I bonded with my nephew and spent some time with my sister and her husband. Got another great meal from a fancified restaurant. We talked about my possibly staying up there for a while when the new baby comes, helping out a bit and saving money. I thought this might be nice, especially since Sam and I get along so well, and Meredith is able to get so much more done when she runs errands if there is someone else along to keep him occupied. When we went to Lowes on Thursday, she was able to get all of her business done while I took Sammy around the store. He seemed to like it. We looked at all the tools, then he sat in every riding lawn mower there. He calls them tractors. He also wanted to test out all of the bathroom fixtures: toilets, faucets, whathaveyous. It’s pretty easy to keep him entertained. I think we spent at least an hour over a period of three days sitting in their front window looking out at all of the cars passing by on the road. “Big truck!” “Where are the people going?”
Also, he’s scared of the car wash. Interesting.

So, that was spring break. Now I’m back in Iowa City sorting through things that I need to get rid of, being that I know for sure now that I’m not going to be here in the fall. The question is, where am I going? Chicago? St. Paul? New York City? Even Los Angeles is in the running.

For tonight, though, I’m keeping a narrow focus on movies and a Tombstone pizza that is currently cooking in my oven. Perfect, lazy end to a lazy spring break.